tly. Ah, my own--my
own! What have I not gone through! But you are with me again. Life
seems too good altogether."

"It was our first parting, and a longish one," he said musingly as he
walked beside her towards the settlement--his horse, with the bridle
over its neck, following behind with the docility of a dog. "It was
good for both of us, Eanswyth, my life. Now, do you think it was
exactly delightful to me."

"N-no," she replied plaintively, pressing to her side the arm which he
had passed through hers as they walked. "Though, of late, I haven't
known what to think."

"They will know what to think if you go on looking so ridiculously
happy," he said meaningly. "The gossip-loving soul of mother Hoste will
be mighty quick at putting two and two together. And then?"

"And then? And then--I don't care--I've got _you_ again," she answered
with a gleeful laugh. "You--do you hear? You--you--_you_."

He looked rather grave. A struggle seemed to be going on within him.

"But you won't have me very long, my dear one. I am on my way to the
front. In fact, I start this very night. I, and Hoste, and Payne."

No fear of her too happy look betraying her now. It faded from her eyes
like the sunlight from the surface of a pool when the black
thunder-cloud sweeps over it. It gave place to a stricken, despairing
expression, which went to his heart.

"You have come back to me only to leave me again? O Eustace--Eustace!
I am a very wicked woman, and this is my punishment. But how can I bear
it!"

Then he calmed her. Strong as he was, his voice shook a little as he
reasoned with her, pointing out how this course was in every way the
best. He could not remain away down in the Colony, he said, and he had
absolutely no pretext for staying on at Komgha. Besides, in a small,
crowded and gossipy place, it would be downright madness to attempt it.
Their secret would be common property in a day. He was too restless and
unhappy away from her, and at present it was impossible to remain near
her. The chances and excitement of the campaign offered the only way
out of it. After that, brighter times were in store--brighter times,
perhaps, than they dared dream of.

He calmed her--by the force of his reasoning--by the very magnetism of
his influence; most of all, perhaps, by the power and certainty of his
love. Never again could she doubt this--never--come what might. And
she was to that extent happy amid her grie